Tales of Monokuro—Sol's Story Mode
by Alchemy and Rainbows
Summary: When his friend Luma goes hunting in the woods and doesn't return, it's up to ninteen-year-old Sol El Idnus to find her. But when a week-long search party gives way to an eternal war, will the blind warrior sink, or swim?
1. Prologue—The Sun Goes Down!

"What do you mean, 'Luma hasn't come back yet'?"

"Exactly that, sir." Sol groaned from the doorway. "She left me in charge of the shop and took Leif hunting hours ago. I haven't seen her since..."

"Hunting in these woods is _illegal_, Sol." the man on the other side of the room scolded harshly, pacing the length of the kitchen wall. "You shouldn't have let her do it."

Sol wanted to scream _T__hat's what _I _told her_, but he bit his tongue. His eyes narrowed behind the heavy fabric of his bandanna, and he hooked his left thumb gingerly under the makeshift blindfold and lifted it up, so that he could look at the man as he spoke. Light from the setting sun glared in through the open window. Sol's eyes burned, and he blinked back tears, lowering the bandanna, relieved to be blind again.

"I...I'll find her, sir." Sol managed, as calmly as he could pretend to be. He could feel the older man's gaze searing into his sightless, vulnerable being, and he squirmed in discomfort as discreetly as possible.

"Be back in a week." the man whispered. His voice was so soft that Sol doubted a normal person would have heard it. Even his own sensitive ears strained to hear, so that he wasn't sure if the man had realized he was speaking out loud. "Bring Luma home...please."

"Yes, sir." Sol replied, swallowing. The air was so thick with tension, he swore that he would suffocate if he stayed in the kitchen any longer. His socks slid on the floor as he shuffled down the hall to the guest room, _his room_, and closed the door behind himself.

It was dark in his room, enough so that he could take off his blindfold without hurting his eyes too badly. The room was pretty empty, too. There was a mirror next to his bed that he always got dressed in front of, the bed itself, and a shelf with a few pairs of carefully matched socks. He grabbed one at random, and, after peeling off the pair he was already wearing, yanked them on. They reached halfway up his thighs, disappearing under the legs of his shorts, which barely covered six inches of skin. Thinking better of the outfit, he grabbed his only pair of jeans off of the floor and stepped into them. He had been mistaken for a girl before, even after he cut his hair and stopped braiding it, and it wasn't something he cared to repeat.

He pulled on his jacket for a similar reason—to conceal his black tanktop and vermilion, silk gloves. He slid his shoes on last of all, pausing to toy with the little emerald flowers on either toe.

His weapons were under his pillow. His fighting style wasn't out of the ordinary; he used slim, metal bracers that fit under his jacket and curved over his wrists like forked claws. Aside from that, he always carried a yo-yo in the breast pocket of his jacket or tucked into the loop on his belt. Somehow, he found it easier to concentrate while casting artes if he focused on the rhythmic twirling of the object.

He slipped it into his pocket, then gathered his satchel from behind the door. It was lightweight and nearly empty; it had only a week's allowance, an orange gel, and two apple gels. The boy made a mental note to restock once he reached the next town. The last thing he needed was to die at the hands of a weak monster because he didn't have the resources to heal himself.

He didn't have time to dwell on it, though. Luma was in trouble, and it was his job to save her ass. It had been for the past ten years. He carefully pulled his bandanna over his eyes, then turned towards the window. There was no point in confronting the girl's father on the way out, he decided grimly, sliding out into the rapidly cooling night air.

* * *

It wasn't particularly difficult to find Luma's trail.

Once he was far enough from the village lights, Sol untied the fabric from over his eyes and tied it around his neck. Almost right away, he spotted a golden blur in the grass. He didn't need to pick it up to know what it was.

_Luma's choker__._

He crouched down and grabbed the object, turning it over in his hands. The warmth had long since faded from it; she had been without it for at least a couple of hours. Sighing, he shoved it into his bag and stood up, scanning the forest for signs of his comrade's whereabouts.

The Shining Capital of Panamko was was dangerously close. If anyone caught him too close to the border, it would mean trouble. He was more than ready to take that chance, of course, but getting caught wasn't on his agenda. Still, with his luck, he would be in jail by the end of the night. It always happened—when he wished hard enough for something to not happen, it always did, and he had given up trying not to wish. Humans weren't that simple.

Besides, Panamko would be the best place to start looking for her. He had gone there once before, when Leif had gone missing a few months ago, and everyone was gossiping about spotting a notch-eared beast west of the city. Panamko was undoubtedly the place to go for information. As long as he stayed hidden, he and Luma would be home long before a week had passed.

The bushes rustled, and Sol groaned.

_Just my luck..._he thought. _This is such a clichéd situation._

"Come out!" he called, trying to sound threatening. "I know you're there, so stop trying to be stealthy and come fight me, man-to-man."

The bushes rustled again, behind him and to the side, then again, directly in front of him. That's what the first noise had been, he concluded: a decoy.

"So there's two of you, then." he corrected, spinning around, trying to pinpoint their exact location. "I don't care; fight me!"

"Do you even _know _who you're talking to?" a young voice asked suddenly from his right. He turned to face the speaker, but she had already moved.

"The Fujibayashi sisters, that's who." another female voice whispered from the shadows. Sol felt his blood run cold, and he clutched his satchel closer to his side, biting his lip, threading it between his teeth, sucking out the blood when the skin finally tore.

His own labored breathing knocked him out.


	2. Jailbreak—Patty and Yuri to the Rescue!

"_Damn_."

The first sense that returned to Sol was his sight. He had to scoff at that; the little blots of color that his weak eyes managed to pick up was no help at all. His hearing came back just in time for him to hear his own raspy voice.

"You're awake?"

The question bounced off the walls and echoed, dead. Sol's mouth turned down at the corners as he sat up, feeling cold, metal walls brush against his face. His prediction was right. Spot fucking on. He was in a jail cell.

"Are you awake yet?" the voice repeated, and Sol heard someone tapping on the side of the wall to his right. The only light in the room came from a four-by-four inch window to the front. Clearly, he wouldn't be meeting his neighbor face-to-face any time soon.

"Yeah, I'm up. Who's asking?" he shot back shortly, banging his head against the wall in despair, moaning quietly at the pain it caused and contemplating doing it again.

The other didn't answer for a moment. Then, he replied, "You've been out cold for a while. I was just making sure you weren't dying, with all the noise you made in your sleep."

Sol felt a pang of guilt tear at his chest.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" he called back without a second thought. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Same as you. A criminal."

_Criminal._

"But I didn't do anything!" he objected, jumping up and hitting his head on the ceiling. He swore loudly, trapped somewhere between wanting to kill whoever made the cells so damn small and wishing the pain would last instead of ebb. "Hey! Fuckin' guards! Let me out of here!"

He could almost hear the smirk on the other boy's lips when he replied.

"I'm sure if you keep quiet for ten days, they'll let you out."

"You sound like you've spend your fair share of time locked up." Sol retorted, the sound of sarcasm, of _something_ human, calming him down enough for him to sit back down on the floor and pull his knees up to his chest.

"I may have been here a few times." he replied, and Sol could picture him shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Only a few, huh?" Sol joked, relishing the silence that followed.

After a while, he heard footsteps approaching, followed by his neighbor scrambling back to the corner. He didn't make any attempt to look less suspicious. He already looked pathetic enough, with his head in his hands, sprawled out on the floor. If that looked suspicious, then he was a mouse.

The jingling of keys reached his ears, and he fought off the impulse to lift his head in curiosity. Common sense told him it was the guard outside his cell. No point in giving the damned man what he wants by reacting. Then, the sound of a lock clicking open reverberated through the lifeless room, and Sol had to life his head.

There was a girl standing in his doorway. She was blonde, with pale skin and cerulean eyes. She dressed like a pirate, with her hat and coat, and looked relatively young; thirteen or fourteen, tops.

"Hey, you!" she whispered, rapping on the wall above Sol's head. "Have you seen Yuri Lowell?"

"Who?" Sol rasped, confused.

"Yuri." the girl repeated calmly.

"I don't know what you're talking ab—"

"In here, Patty." came the sarcastic voice from earlier, although his tone of voice was serious now.

"Yuri!" the girl squealed, turning to leave. She paused, throwing Sol a glance. "You can leave now, Mister. Just don't let the guards catch you."

"H-hey! Wait a minute!" Sol protested, following the girl to the next jail cell over. "You're going to get into even more trouble. Who are you?"

"Sh-shhh!" the girl hissed, bringing her index finger to Sol's mouth. "We're gonna get caught...I'm Patty."

Sol watched Patty quietly as she unlocked the cell door, then threw the key aside somewhere, to be discovered later by the pissed off guards. He finally got a good look at his neighbor, too, who looked two or three years older than Sol and had long, dark purple hair. When he put a hand on Patty's shoulder, it was his left. He nodded briefly in Sol's direction, then turned his attention back to Patty.

"Right. We'd better leave now, then. We'll need to be gone and back before they realize we're missing."

"You're going to get caught." Sol interrupted mater-of-factly.

The man scoffed.

"No one's making you leave. Be a good boy and wait here for your master to let you outside, if you really want to."

Sol frowned, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He weighed his options for a moment, his brow furrowed with concentration, then shook his head decidedly.

"How do I get out of here?"

The other male smirked knowingly and nodded.

"I'll show you." he replied, offering his left hand to Sol. "Yuri Lowell, by the way."

Sol eyed Yuri's hand skeptically, pleasantly surprised that the other was also left-handed. Finally, he tugged off his left glove with his teeth, accidentally cutting his own fingertip in the process, and shook hands in greeting.

"Sol El Idnus." he introduced gruffly.

Yuri nodded.

"Okay, Patty. Where's Regal?"

"Holding off the guards." Patty informed him, curling her fingers around the cuffs of her coat. "I'm going back to help him...you two better get out of here while you still can."

"Take care, then, Patty." Yuri murmured.

"You too, my special treasure~." Patty giggled, pecking an unwilling Yuri on the cheek, although she had to stand on her tip-toes to accomplish the task. She then turned, giving the two only a quick glance over her shoulder before sprinting out of the hall, around the corner, and up the stairs. Sol could swear he heard fighting coming from upstairs—violet sounds, like the scrape of metal-on-metal and the screeching of battle cries. He tried to block them out; there was nothing he could do now but run.

"You have a weapon, right?" Yuri asked, grabbing his sword from the corner. Sol looked down, surprised to see that his bracers were still curling dangerously over his bawled fists. Whoever had locked him up must have overlooked the weapons, what with the way they were concealed under his sleeves.

"Yeah. Yeah, I still have them on me."

"Good." Yuri hummed. "I can't promise that we won't have to fight. Are you coming?"

"Yeah."

* * *

"That's the plan? Run for the woods?" Sol managed between breathless gasps. He could just make out a speck of light a the end on the sewage pipe. It hurt his eyes after a moment, though, and he looked away before fumbling with his bandanna, trying to tie it over his eyes.

—Skit No. 001: Blindness–

"What's with the blindfold?" Yuri asked.

"The light hurts my eyes." Sol responded.

"Hurts your eyes...?" Yuri echoed.

"Yes...my eyes are bad. I can't see very well, and the sunlight makes it worse."

"So you can only see at night?"

"I guess you could put it that way."

"It's like you aren't even human!"

"I don't see how a genetic mutation makes me any less human!" Sol snapped.

"Sorry! Yeesh, I didn't mean anything by it."

"Yeah...I know..."

—End Skit—

It didn't take long for the familiar drum of pounding footsteps to reach Sol's ears. He wondered briefly if Yuri had heard it, too, but the lack of reaction from the other told him he hadn't. It wasn't until the noise got louder that the two paused in their tracks. Sol lifted his blindfold to exchange a glance with Yuri. It was a question—one that Sol hesitated to speak, knowing that it meant he didn't get to call the shots.

"Fight, or flight?"

Yuri paused—not physically, since he was already standing still, but mentally; Sol could tell by the dilation of his pupils and the way his breathing evened out. Finally, the man drew his sword, just as the first wave of guards turned the corner.

"Fight!"

The order didn't need to be repeated. Sol was already twirling his yo-yo, murmuring the incantation to an arte. The insignia on his left palm glowed scarlet.

"Fireball!" he snarled, sending a short blast of fire at one of the guards. He heard a grunt of surprise, which, in his opinion, was better than any visual he could have asked for. He repeated the attack several times, until he felt his body weakening with fatigue. He growled to himself, literally biting back a yawn. He would have to resort to physical attacks until he regained enough energy to cast.

He pocketed his yo-yo and took a step forward, daring someone, _anyone_ to attack him. He felt Yuri step closer, his blade locked with that of a guard, skillfully blocking blow after blow and countering each strike. Sol raised his own arm defensively as another guard swung his sword. It was a sloppy attack, at best, and Sol knocked it away with a swish of his arm, then elbowed the guard in the gut, smirking at the pained groan it elicited. Then, mostly for show, he kicked the guard into the air.

"Swallow Dance!" he called, kicking again and then punching his opponent, feeling blood run down the edge of his right bracer.

_That better not stain my glove..._he thought disdainfully, looking disgusted at the idea. He allowed himself to fall back a few paces, so that his back brushed against Yuri's. His teammate was breathing heavily, and Sol could feel the heaving of the man's shoulders as he tried to catch his breath. Sol quickly pulled out his yo-yo, which was already enveloped in a teal light as he began casting. A guard ran at him, trying to break his concentration, but Sol ignored him, not surprised when Yuri threw himself between the two, gaining another shallow wound on his right shoulder and one on his opposite forearm.

"First Aid!" Sol gasped, just managing to heal Yuri and dodge roll out of the way of an enemy's sword. Unable to stand back up quickly enough, he raised both hands in front of his face, curling up with his head down and his knees tucked under himself. The sword flashed again, tearing his sleeves open and sparking as it his clashed with his exposed bracers. The third time it arched towards his vulnerable form, the edge of the blade struck him in the side, drawing blood as well as scream of pain. His left hand shot down to the injury without his brain's consent, leaving his shaky right arm to shield his face. His eyes widened in horror behind his blindfold. He managed a strangled gasp, trying to move his other arm, but his body wasn't listening. All he managed was a feeble twitch of his fingers. His resolve faltered, and he dropped his right hand, bracing himself against the wall and rooting his feet to the ground, digging his toes into the wall behind him.

"I'm sorry...Luma..." he sobbed loudly.

"Not on my watch!" Yuri shouted, and Sol groaned in fear and numbing relief as the sword fell short, barely cutting the left leg. The guard shouted something fearfully with his last breath.

An eerie hush fell over the vicinity. Sol knew what that meant; it was over. The guards were dead.

Finally in control of his movements again, he brought his hands to his forehead, careful not to dig his bracers into his skin. The tears finally stung the corners of his eyes and ran down his cheeks, drenching his blindfold and flushing his cheeks. His whole body trembled, and his breath shuddered when he exhaled. He didn't cry out. He didn't scream in despair. He just sat there, sobbing quietly into his open palms.

It must have been at least half an hour before Sol managed to pull himself together, picking up the pieces of his own shattered willpower. He found himself shrugging off Yuri's hand from his shoulder—when had the man crouched down to sit with him, anyway?—and tugging off his blindfold. Yuri shifted his weight next to him, leaning back against the wall and putting his hands on the ground next to him. Sol sniffled softly, tracing patterns on his bandanna with his thumb.

Yuri was the first to break the silence.

"If you can't fight," he murmured gently, closing his eyes, "then you should turn around now and go back before you hurt yourself."

Sol staggered to his feet, enraged, and shook his head firmly.

"I _can _fight, Yuri!" he argued pointedly, slamming his fist on the wall behind him and growling. "And I _won't _go back! I'll keep on fighting, too, whether you want to help me or not. Even if it kills me—"

"It almost _did_—"

"—_even _if I die trying, I _will _find my friend!"

There was another silence that only lasted half as long as the first one. Akin to the first pause, Sol was too upset to even try speaking. And again, Yuri spoke first.

"So you're looking for someone, too...let's go, then?"

"Huh?" Sol looked confused.

"You said you wanted to fight, didn't you?" Yuri asked, standing up and brushing off the front of his shirt. "We should leave before more guards decide to come after us."

Sol wouldn't have admitted it at that moment, but Yuri's words made his throat grow tight, choking on tears of warmth that he was too tired to keep crying. He put his blindfold back on and adjusted his ponytail, then nodded.

"Right."


	3. Escape from Panamko—Into the Miri Woods!

The world was too vibrant for Sol's liking when he and Yuri emerged from the drainpipe and into the slums of Panamko. He almost wished he had another blindfold; light still filtered in through his own heavy bandanna, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to avoid straining them. The boy fanned his fingers out, longing to feel them brush against someone else's. Tough luck, since Luma wasn't there with him and Yuri had one hand on his belt and the other was preoccupied with the sheath to his sword. He didn't have time to brood on the fact, though. He didn't have time to do much of anything...

"What's the plan, Yuri?" he asked lifting his blindfold and craning his neck to look the other in the eye.

"Oh, I'm calling the shots now?" Yuri asked, raising an eyebrow. "You seemed pretty keen on not following anyone's rules but your own a little while back."

Sol felt his cheeks grow warm. He let the bandanna fall back over his eyes with the soft _thwack _of skin-on-fabric and looked away.

"You know your way around here better than I do, is all." he mumbled around the inside of his cheek. "Prejudice aside, a blind man can't navigate a big city he's unfamiliar with..."

Yuri shrugged.

"Point taken." he sighed. "Fine, then. I need to drop by my house and pick something up. Wait here, come with with me...I don't care."

"I'll come with you." Sol said quickly, scrambling after Yuri and following him around the wall that enclosed most of the lower quarter.

'Unfamiliar with' had been an understatement; Sol had to cling to the wall to keep from falling over. He could swear that the city had something against visually impaired and downright klutzy people. The sidewalks were uneven slabs of concrete and dirt that tripped him up with every step he took. Everything was connected haphazardly with raised walkways and ramshackle staircases, and even though he could tell that Yuri was trying his best to make things easier for him, Sol was reluctant to walk at all.

—Skit No. 002: Cats Always Land on Their Feet...Right?—

"Ow!" Sol whimpered.

"Hey...are you alright?" Yuri asked.

"Yeah, I'm fi—shit!"

"Ow! H-hey! Let go of my hand!"

"No way! I can't move, Yuri!"

"Let go!"

"Fine..." Sol grumbled.

"Thank you." Yuri huffed in annoyance. "Come on, let's—Sol?"

"I can't get up..." Sol groaned.

"Aren't cats always supposed to land on their feet?" Yuri sighed.

—End Skit—

It wasn't without much embarrassing staggering around that Sol found himself leaning on the frame of Yuri's door. Even for a lower quarter house, Yuri's place was small. It was backed into the farthest corner of the lower quarter, behind one house and right underneath another. From the door, Sol was sure that if he wasn't so damn short, he could touch the opposite wall. There was a single window above Yuri's bed that looked out onto the empty streets below. Besides the bed, there was only one piece of furniture in the room, that being a wooden chest in the corner.

Sol cleared his throat nervously, endeavoring to resist the impulse to pace the room.

"We shouldn't stick around to long." he cautioned slowly. "What if those guards catch up to us?"

"We'll need to be ready to fight if that happens." Yuri replied over his shoulder as he rummaged through the chest. "I just need to find...there."

"What's that?" Sol asked, leaning forward as Yuri pulled something out from underneath an empty life bottle. "A Mystic Core...?"

"You fight with one, too, don't you?" Yuri asked in response, slamming the chest shut and pocketing the Core.

"Yeah..." Sol replied. "Yeah, I do. Bakeneko Core. I used to fight with a Phoenix Core, but using Light elemental attacks presented a problem."

"Fighting should be easier if we both have one." Yuri explained. He crossed the room in three strides, then paused and offered Sol his arm. "Let's head for Miri Woods, then."

* * *

"Scale of one to ten; how dark is it right now?"

"Nine, I'd say." Yuri answered flatly. "You should be fine without the blindfold. I can't even see all that well right now."

"Thanks." Sol muttered. His hands trembled with doubt and annoyance, so that the knot in the fabric held fast when he tried to undo it. The second time he tried, his fingers slipped and he stabbed his right palm with a nail.

"You need help?" the swordsman asked in amusement, bringing his hand halfway over his mouth to mask a poorly suppressed chuckle. Sol gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the remark, and accidentally yanked a strand of his own ivory hair in his haste. After a moment, he surrendered and pulled his hair out of the way of the nape of his neck. Yuri undid the knot effortlessly, and with one hand.

"Th...thank you." he huffed, trying not to sound annoyed. He bawled up the bandanna and shoved it up his sleeve, frowning when he felt a tear in his right glove.

"No problem." Yuri replied nonchalantly.

Sol frowned, bunching up the cuffs of his coat sleeves in his fists.

"S-so, um..." he swallowed awkwardly. "What are we supposed to do now? It's only a matter of time before the Panamko guards come after us."

"Don't you think I know that?" Yuri countered. "Look, we'll be safe as long as we keep a low profile. Hiding out here will give us plenty of time to plan ahead and restock. Besides, you need to learn how to fight if you want to find that friend of yours."

"Oh..." Sol murmured, at a loss.

Yuri's irritated expression softened.

"It's getting late. We should set up camp here. We can start looking for your friend in the morning. Gather some firewood, will you?"

"No need." Sol breathed. "I can start a fire. Magic, remember?"

"Magic...? Sol, you aren't an elf, are you?"

A look of fear crossed Sol's face. He bunched up the hem of his coat, letting his hazy carmine gaze dart around, never meeting Yuri's. His visage betrayed more than he had hoped; he fucked up pretty badly this time.

"E-elves aren't the only ones who can use magic, you know." he croaked. "Traditionally, that was the case, but there are others...there are humans with the magic gene. Mutants, they are. Celestial beings, too! And people who learned it from elves who were willing to teach. And...and..."

"And half-elves?" Yuri offered.

Sol was silent for a long moment.

"You...you can't tell anyone." he whispered finally, leaning on a tree to steady himself.

"They only kill half-elves on the other side of the border." Yuri pointed out. "As long as we stay—"

"Don't, Yuri. Don't even say it. Just promise me I'm safe with you!"

"Fine, fine." Yuri agreed. "I wouldn't gain anything by selling you out, anyway." he paused. Then; "You probably shouldn't use magic unless you have to, though. Not everyone is dumb enough to overlook a detail like that."

"Yeah...I got it." Sol sighed. "Firewood, then."

"Nah, wait." Yuri cut in. "I trust you with this one."

Sol glanced at the man for confirmation, then grinned a catlike grin. He twirled his yo-yo once, conjuring a flame small enough to burn safely.

"Fireball!"

Yuri hummed his approval and sat on the ground by the fire. He patted the ground next to him in an invitation, and Sol glanced away.

"Actually," he declined, pulling at his blood-and-sweat-stained clothes, "we passed a river a little while back. I'm going to head back that way to bathe, if you don't mind."

"I'll come, too, then." Yuri yawned, jumping to his feet.

"Alright..." Sol agreed reluctantly. He gave the ground by the fire one last wistful look before unbuttoning his jacket and starting off towards the river.

* * *

Bathing had seemed like a much better idea when Sol _wasn't _peering into the dark water from the pebbly shore and trying to calculate how deep it was.

The half-blood sat up slowly and eased off his gloves, setting them down at the water's edge. He seemed almost regretful to shrug off his tank-top and fold it neatly next to his gloves. He darted a cautious hand out and slapped the surface of the water. It rippled magnificently, and he pulled his hand away.

"Are you going in, or not?" Yuri asked, setting his sword down under a bush.

"Yeah, of course." Sol replied too quickly, lining his boots up with his gloves and starting on his jeans. (He would cast those aside, if he had to, but there was no way in was taking off his shorts.) When he finally took the garment off, Yuri snickered softly behind him.

"What's so funny?" Sol demanded.

"Your socks." Yuri managed in amusement. Sol looked down, confused, then flushed red as he realized his error. He quickly yanked the long, pink-and-black socks down his legs and kicked them off, letting them fly in some direction or another.

"They're not mine." he lied, shuffling his bare feet in the dirt. "They're my friend's."

"Your boyfriend's?" Yuri teased.

"No! Why would a boy own women's socks—oh."

"_That's _the part you object to." Yuri remarked with a roll of his eyes.

Sol ignored his temporary traveling partner and slid feet-first into the river. He had to cling to the banks to keep from going under or being swept away by the relatively calm current. His attempts to look uncaring only seemed to add to Yuri's enjoyment of the situation, and he gave up completely.

"Do you not know how to swim, or something?" Yuri asked as he slid in next to Sol, who took the inquiry as an insult and ignored it. When he didn't receive an answer, Yuri shrugged and dropped the subject.

"There was never anyone to teach me." Sol said finally.

"Hm?"

"To swim, I mean."

"No one, huh? Well, sounds like a story for another day."

"I guess." Sol agreed, pulling his jacket into the water with one hand, and, bracing his shoulders against the riverbank, trying to scrub the stains out of the heavy fabric. The last rays of sunlight were fading from the gaps between tree branches above, and Sol could finally see to the best of his ability—not that it mattered much, seeing as how the two probably wouldn't be doing much traveling in the darkness.

He gave up on washing the filth from his clothes after a moment and started on his skin. He doubted that water alone would do the dried blood and dirt on his arms very much good, but he scrubbed at them with his fingernails anyway. When he reached his shoulders, he paused. The boy considered asking Yuri to help him wash his back, then thought better of it with a small grin. The last thing he needed was for the other outlaw to get the wrong idea and mistake Sol's feigned naivete for attraction.

He scrambled out of the river after a failed attempt at scrubbing his back, cold and trembling, and pulled his damp coat back on. Yuri followed after a moment, and Sol turned away, blushing feverishly as he dressed.

"We should go back now." Yuri yawned once both were fully clothed. He turned to leave, but Sol stopped him with a gloved hand on his shoulder. There was a fire in his red eyes that wasn't usually there; a determination.

"Wait, Yuri." he murmured, looking the other right in the eyes and sneering. "We might have to fight soon, and if I can't defend myself, then...I won't always get lucky. If I'm going to keep this up, then I'll need to get stronger. Yuri..." His bracers slid over his wrists with a soft click. He held his arms in front of him, locked in a fighting stance. "Fight me."

Yuri looked almost surprised for a moment. Then, he took a step back and drew his sword in both hands.

"As you wish." he agreed with a smirk, staring right back into Sol's eyes. He slid one foot forward, and their blades clashed.

The night faded with the clink of metal-on-metal.


	4. A Fight to the Death—Luma's in Danger?

_It was dark enough to be called 'night', surely, but there was enough light filtering through the trees to blind Sol. His blindfold was nowhere to be found, so he had to squeeze his eyes shut. Even without his eyesight, though, he could hear the hair-raising sounds of battle around him, and he could smell the metallic stench of blood in the air. Even worse than the deafening snarls of beasts, though, was the single scream of horror that pierced the forest atmosphere._

_"Luma!" he screeched. He made to stand up, only to find that, horrifyingly, his right leg was mangled and bloodied beyond recognition. He was too afraid to scream. All he could manage was a fearful groan as he hit the ground, clutching the gruesome pulp of blood and flesh and muscle that still clung his bones. Tears of agony ran down his face in adjoining streams._

_"Sol! Help me!" Luma's plea rang out, falling on the functioning ears of her helpless friend. He tried to shout back, to promise her that everything would be okay, but his throat constricted with terror and grief, and he couldn't make a sound. He could hear the beasts roaring with bloodlust, circling his limp body and slowly closing in on him. His right leg had gone eerily numb now, and he swallowed hard with the knowledge that the nerve endings were all but dead. His hearing started to fail, his thoughts becoming less and less conscious, less and less his own...the last thing that registered in his mind was that he was dying before the world went painfully white._

* * *

Sol was breathing heavily when he awoke.

He was still crying, and he was still holding his leg, which, to his numbing relief, was damaged only by a mosquito bite. It took him a minute to realize what had happened—he had been dreaming. He was currently, the rough tree bark rubbing at his bare shoulders told him, in the Miri Woods. His back was to a large oak tree, where he had fallen asleep the night before—or earlier that morning, more likely—but Yuri was no longer asleep next to him. He sat up with a groan and rubbed the back of his neck. The entirety of his body was still sore from training that night.

"Sol? Are you okay?"

"Yuri?" Sol murmured, feeling around blindly for his bandanna. It landed in his lap—Yuri must have thrown it to him—with a soft thud. He grabbed it quickly and tied it over his eyes, then stood up carefully, trying to ignore the popping of his joints as he did. "I'm fine...why?"

"You were talking in your sleep again." Yuri reasoned. "You sounded scared, that's all."

"Does it matter?" Sol retaliated dryly. "I could've died in my dreams, and y'know what? I would've woken up all the same. It's happened before." He didn't bother to add that it would happen again, every single night, year after agonizing year, until the end of his long life. He just left it at that, brushing off concern like a pesky tick or a flea.

"Geeze, alright." Yuri muttered. "No need to be rude."

"I'm—"

"And stop apologizing, would you?"

"Sorry."

"Ech. Whatever."

Sol frowned, rubbing at a cut on his cheek that he could only guess was from sparring the night before. The wound reopened, and he felt a warm dampness on his hand. The half-elf growled and wiped it off on his coat.

"Did you really have to draw blood?" he complained.

"You didn't seem to care last night." Yuri rolled his eyes as he spoke—Sol couldn't see it, but he was sure of the fact. "Stop looking for things to bitch about and get your bracers."

Sol raised an eyebrow.

"Training, _master _Lowell?" he asked sarcastically, putting his hands on his hips. "I'm still tired from last night, thank you very much."

"Calm down. You don't have to fight me this time." Yuri assured. "We're fighting monsters today...besides, you _asked _me to spar with you."

Sol couldn't argue with that. He leaned against the tree, stretching his sore limbs slowly until the ache in them faded. He then stood up, cracked each knuckle in turn, and grabbed his coat from off the ground.

"Fine." he agreed begrudgingly, pulling his coat on and fumbling with the buttons. His bracers were still stashed inside the sleeves, and it took him little effort to strap them to his elbows. He finally stooped down and pulled on his socks and shoes, then nodded in confirmation.

"Ready, then?" Yuri asked, the implication in his voice hinting that his words were meant to be followed up with 'finally'.

"Yeah." Sol mumbled around a yawn. "Are we far enough from the Panamko barrier to find strong enough monsters, though?"

"We should be." Yuri called back as he laced up his boots, then straightened up and started off into the deeper, uncharted parts of the Miri Woods.

—Skit No. 003: Nightmares—

Sol yawned.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Yuri asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Sol mumbled.

"You didn't seem to get a lot of sleep last night."

"I'm just—" he paused to stifle another yawn— "just fine."

"You don't sound like it."

"They were just dreams..." Sol breathed.

"If you want to stop and try sleeping again, then—"

"It doesn't matter!" Sol snapped.

"Whoa...geeze."

"They'll just...keep coming back..."

—End Skit—

There didn't seem to be many strong monsters in Miri; the ones they did find hidden in the brush were pathetic little pushovers that Yuri silenced with an Azure Edge or two. With every beast that wasn't worth fighting, Sol found himself growing steadily more irritated. His face reddened from his heavy, open-mouthed hyperventilation.

"You're going to scare off anything within a three-mile radius of here." Yuri remarked eventually as he crouched to examine a set of stale Chimera tracks.

"There _is _nothing within a three-mile radius." Sol argued, throwing his weight dramatically against a tree and sliding to the ground. "If we really want to find something, we should head north."

"Too close to the border." Yuri countered. He had obviously been expecting that remark. "I can't risk crossing into Paeonia with a half-elf."_**  
**_

"Racist." Sol leered.

Yuri shrugged.

"Whatever." he shot back. "_I'm _not the one who wants your kind enslaved and tortured to death."

Sol froze in his tracks. He felt a nagging pressure in the back of his mind, like there was something he was supposed to remember. _Enslaved, tortured, death_...something about the set of words triggered his brain. He chewed the inside of his cheek, sucking absentmindedly on the salty, metallic tang of blood. It was as though his body wouldn't let him remember whatever it was that was bothering him; there was a memory there, he knew that much, but it wouldn't surface. It was as if his brain was trying to protect him from his past...

_Sol..._

The voice of a girl, probably no older than ten or so, echoed once in his mind, then faded. His subconscious stilled, leaving him to stand there and shudder.

"Sol?"

Sol snapped back to attention and stiffened.

Yuri sounded apologetic.

"Are you okay?" he coughed. "You just...spaced out for a minute."

_Sol! You have to run! Forget about me..._

The half-elf ignored the meaningless plea and shook his head to clear it. The edges of his mind still felt hazy, like he was trying to shake off the remains of a half-forgotten nightmare—and in a way, that was exactly what he was doing.

"'M okay." he replied gruffly. "Sorry. Le's go."

He could practically see Yuri narrowing his eyes skeptically at his slurred speech. Finally, he muttered, "Whatever you say. Just don't keel over on me. I can't promise I'll carry you back to Panamko if you pass out."

"Shh!" Sol hissed suddenly.

"What—"

"Shut up! I hear something..."

A low, deep snarl rumbled somewhere in the distance. Sol felt the earth trembling under his feet. It was a dull buzz at first, but it quickly escalated until he was on his knees and Yuri had to lean on a tree to stay vertical. There was a faint odor of smoke in the air, steadily growing stronger. Sol could picture the fine wisps of grey as they grew to black clouds; telltale signs of fire.

"Sol! Get up!" Yuri had to shout to be heard over the roaring of the beast.

"Dragon?" Sol gasped as Yuri yanked him to his feet and pushed him back forcefully, so that the swordsman could stand defensively in front of his partner.

"Yeah." Yuri called back. "Can you fight?"

"Of course I can!" Sol growled indignantly. When the dragon burst into the clearing, he was ready.

"_Arekuruu nagare yo_..." he murmured, bringing his hands together and closing his concealed eyes. A bright cyan glyph appeared on the ground underneath him, right on cue. The insignia under his right eye glowed to life with a dark violet radiance. "Splash!"

A torrent of water splashed over the battlefield, surging around Sol's knees. He heard the dragon bellow in pain; it was the one sound that made soaking everything below waist-level tolerable. He twirled his yo-yo once, already mumbling another incantation.

"___Gouka bakuretsu_...Eruption!"

"That's not going to work, Sol!" Yuri yelled from where he stood, trying to get in a blow to the dragon's left flank, just above the blazing flame of its charred, blackened tail. "You can't—damn—can't use fire attacks on a dragon and honestly expect them to work."

"Right..." Sol managed, pressing his palms together. "_Senppū reppū_! Wind Lance!"

Sol braced himself against a tree, wincing as the gust of wind he created ruffled his hair and tugged at the hem of his jacket. The attack hit the monster directly in the eyes, blinding it. It spread its massive wings, igniting the trees in its path. Branches fell like flaming dominoes on the battlefield. One singed the ground just in front of him, and a second would have hit him if Yuri hadn't moved at that exact moment.

"Don't just stand there!" the man snapped, and Sol felt hands on his shoulders, a knee on his back, and then he was lying on the ground, winded, while Yuri recovered and landed skillfully next to him.

"_M-Minna ni yasuragi o_!" He choked out, clutching his bruised, likely broken ribs. "Pixie Circle!"

The mage didn't wait for the pain in his chest to fade. It probably wouldn't, without an apple gel or another spell. That wasn't going to happen; his pockets were empty, and he doubted he could cast another Pixie Circle, or a First Aid for that matter. He staggered to his feet. One hand still rested on his side. He brought the other to his face and pulled his bandanna up off of his eyes and onto his sweaty forehead. His eyes burned, but he forced himself to ignore the pain and squint up at the dragon. It was still in a rage, spewing fire from one of its twin heads and snapping at the air with the other.

"The trees are too dense here!" Yuri advised. "We need to lure it into the open. Can you still fight?"

"I don't think I have enough energy left to use artes." Sol admitted. He lifted his shirt gingerly to check his wounds. The bold outline of his ribs against his chest were more obvious than usual and had turned a nasty shade of reddish-purple. Definitely broken. He lowered his clothes back over his dangerously thin frame and turned back to Yuri. The sword wielder was sifting though his items. He found what he was looking for after a moment and tossed it to Sol, who almost dropped it.

"Heal yourself first." Yuri ordered as Sol popped the orange gel into his mouth. "I'm out of apple gels, so you'll have to cast something."

"Then?" Sol asked hurriedly as he cast First Aid.

"See those trees back at the larger clearing? The one near the river?" Yuri asked, pointing. "Set those on fire, and—"

"Fire?" Sol choked. "You can't fight fire with fire; you said so yourself!"

"Just do it, Sol!"

"Fine! ___Gouka bakuretsu_! Eruption!"

The trees Yuri had indicated burst into flame. Sol huffed quietly as the dragon turned, roared through both mouths, then took off in the direction of the blaze, destroying everything in its wake. Next to him, Yuri had to handspring forward to dodge a falling branch. Sol merely backhanded it away, watching it fall, snapped like a twig, on either side of him.

"Let's go!" Yuri called. "We have to catch up to it!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!" Sol managed, taking off after the beast.

It didn't take long for the dragon to disappear from view. It also didn't take long for Sol's lungs, damned with asthma and weakness, to burn more and more with each shuddering breath, until he was gasping and sobbing for air. He finally stopped running when he tripped on the roots of a tree and fell forward, coughing pathetically. Yuri skidded to an immediate halt and turned back to face his companion.

"Sol, get up!"

_Sol..._

"I can't!" Sol rasped.

Sol heard Yuri curse loudly. He closed his eyes and let his head rest on his arms. His breathing was still loud and painful when he felt Yuri's hands on his shoulders, helping him to stand and brushing the dirt off of him. They must have stood like that for twenty minutes before Sol finally looked up with determination in his eyes.

"Let's catch up to that damn animal, Yuri, and kill it."

"You don't think it's escaped by now?" Yuri asked.

"I doubt it, judging by—"

Sol never got to finish his sentence. He was cut off by a loud scream from the direction the dragon had fled in. He looked in that area to see smoke pouring from the treetops and staining the sky ebony. He hit the ground running at the sound of a second cry—a familiar one.

"Hey, wait!" Yuri objected, matching paces with the other easily. "It's too smoky. You'll suffocate."

"I don't care!" Sol yowled on ragged breath. His previous defeat pushed aside, he burst into the larger, water-enclosed clearing. At the battle in front of him, though, he stopped dead.

Their own plan had backfired; instead of trapping the dragon, the spiraling river had forced a group of passersby into a battle with the enraged, blinded monster. Three twelve-year-old girls were huddled in a corner, clinging to each other's arms. A man in a Panamko military uniform was kneeling on the ground, bleeding, next to a dark-furred, fallen beast. And at the monster's feet, trying to reach for her fallen sword and screaming in fear and rage, was Luma.

"No..." Sol breathed.

"Sol." Yuri whispered. "You have a Mystic Core, don't you?"

"Yeah." Sol growled doubtfully. "So what—wait. Are you suggesting we use a unison attack on it?"

"It should work." Yuri replied. "We already weakened it. You know how to perform a unison attack, right."

"Yeah, I do. I've done it before."

_When? When did you do it? You wrote in your journal that you and Albina and Apollo could use unison attacks...but who are Albina and Apollo?_

"Perfect. On three. One..."

"Three!" Sol cried impatiently, jumping at the dragon with his fists raised. "Rising Phoenix!"

"Azure Edge!" Yuri shouted behind him.

Sol felt a jolt of electricity run down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled—the effects of a unison attack. A ball of icy blue fire formed over the dragon's back, consuming it. The monster's own flaming tail faltered. The fire on its back turned teal, then crystallized and went out. The dragon roared in pain, then fell, shaking the ground with the impact of its dead body.

Luma looked Sol in the eyes, her mouth agape with terror. She spluttered something that Sol didn't quite catch.

Then, she passed out.

Sol was at her side before her head could hit the ground. He squeezed her wrist in his left hand, checking her pulse. She would live, at least.

Yuri stood on the other side of the clearing, trying to rouse the younger girls. He looked up at Sol, then stood, carrying the smallest of the girls carefully in his arms, so that her head rested against his chest and her blonde hair cascaded down the side of both their bodies.

"We need to set up camp." Sol swallowed. "I'll deal tend to their injuries, but I need help. Fetch some water; Luma's burning up."

"Yeah, uh, sure." Yuri agreed, placing the girl next to Sol and Luma. He turned towards the river, then paused. "Sol?"

"What?"

"How did you know the dragon was still in the area earlier?"

Sol snorted.

"When I hit it with Wind Lance," he explained patiently, "I took out its eyesight. I knew it couldn't have gone far if it couldn't see where it was going. That's why it seemed so much more aggressive after I attacked it. It went blind and felt scared and insecure..."

"You have a way with blind people." Yuri remarked.

"As do you with assholes, Yuri." Sol sneered.


	5. The Mysterious Dream—Waking Up in Peril!

_It was dark again._

_It wasn't the usual forest nightmare, though. Sol was inside this time, peering down a dark corridor. The sounds of drumming rain echoed on the walls. A sudden light illuminated the hall, followed by a loud crack of thunder. Sol screamed, but the voice that came from his throat wasn't his own effeminate squeal. It was high-pitched in a completely different way. It was a child's voice._

_"Sol?" a girl asked from behind him. He cried out again and whipped around, coming face-to-face with a black-haired girl in a pristine white nightgown. He knew this girl—he was sure of it. He just...couldn't put a name on her. Something about her eyes, though, was comforting...they were bright emerald, in contrast to his own carmine ones._

_"Why the hell are you awake, Sol?" a less gentle voice demanded. Sol looked up at the speaker; he was a boy just taller than the girl whose arms were now wrapped protectively around Sol's waist. He had a head of long amber hair that ended in charcoal. His eyes were the same comforting green as the girl's, although they looked hostile and unwelcoming. "Don't tell me you pissed the bed again. Oh my Maxwell, you did!"_

_"Don't be so rude!" the girl scolded._

_"What!? C'mon! It's not _my _fault! He's been doing it since the incident, and I'm sick of washing his sheets every day."_

_"You can't blame him for that!" she argued. "Besides, you have the same exact problem, so I wouldn't be talking."_

_Sol couldn't help but smirk as the boy blushed, then folded his arms stubbornly over his chest and stamped his foot on the ground. He stuck out his bottom lip in a childish pout, one that looked hauntingly like the one that often glared back at Sol in the mirror._

_"F-fine! Whatever." he growled, then looked down at Sol. "I guess you wanna sleep with us tonight, pipsqueak?"_

_Sol looked uncertainly at the girl, and she smiled at him reassuringly._

_"It's okay, Sol." she giggled with a friendly blink of her eyes. "Come on, now. You'll always be safe with us. Right, Apollo?"_

_"Yeah..." the boy huffed. "You're safe with us, kid."_

_And then they were gone._

_Sol was alone again, standing in the hallway and squinting in the darkness. The rain had stopped pounding. The thunder had stopped crashing. He had stopped feeling safe and secure in the other's arms._

_He heard a scream from somewhere farther in the house. It was the girl's scream—the girl who had been standing with her arms wrapped around him only moments before. Sol reached for his yo-yo, only to realize that he didn't have it. His bracers were gone, too, and he was wearing robes of gold and silver. His bandanna was missing, too, and his eyes were starting to hurt._

_Nonetheless, he started cautiously down the hall. He could hear men yelling downstairs, and he could hear the boy from earlier sobbing with anger and grief. He turned the corner just in time to see the girl collapse at the top of a spiraling staircase, dying._

_"Sol!" she croaked. "Sol...you have to run. They're coming for you."_

_"Um...d-don't die!" Sol squeaked. He ran to her side and knelt down. Moonlight filtered through an open window. The girl's body shimmered with blood, and Sol whimpered, turning away and promptly vomiting on the floor behind him. The girl rubbed his back in a motherly gesture while he wiped the bile off of his mouth with one sleeve._

_The shouting downstairs grew louder, and Sol could see the shadows of soldiers on the wall, pointing at the staircase and motioning for others to follow. The girl must have noticed, too. She reached into the breast pocket of her nightgown and pulled something out—a pair of glasses. She reached over shakily and slid them onto Sol's face. He blinked as his eyes adjusted. Something cold and metal fell into his right hand. It was a gun._

_The men were ascending the staircase, now. Sol could see them clearly, outlined in the dark like his ribs were outlined in the skin on his chest. Sol turned to the girl for assistance. She merely smiled and let her eyes slide closed._

_"Forget about me, Sol." she whispered, taking in a final, shuddering breath. "You have...to save...yourself...Sol...us...r...er... ..."_

_"U-um...p-please. W-wake up, Miss!" Sol pleaded. "Open your eyes! Don't...don't leave me."_

_He reached his shaking right hand out and traced the line of the girl's jaw. She looked peaceful...if it wasn't for the blood that scourged her features and stained her gown red, he would easily have thought she was asleep. He withdrew his hand sharply when he noticed, for the first time, that the girl was wearing a piece of fabric in her hair to keep her bangs out of her face. He recognized the fabric; he wore it over his eyes every day. Why did this girl have it? Who _was _this girl? He hadn't caught her name before she died, but he somehow felt like he knew her. Was she even real, or was she just a nightmare?_

_He pulled the cloth carefully off of her corpse and examined it carefully. It was undoubtedly his bandanna. He tied it around his forehead, then hesitated and removed his glasses._

_"Let's call it a trade...okay?" he whispered to the body, putting the glasses on her face and placing a soft, emotionless kiss on her bloodied cheek. He didn't want to leave her there, but there was nothing he could do about it. She was too big for him to carry, and there was nothing to cover her with. That, and the tension in the air, along with the girl's last words, reminded him that he was still in danger. He stood to leave._

_Then, the men reached the second floor._

_They trampled the girl's body as they climbed the last few steps, leaving her spine snapped and her arms broken. She fell down the stairs, limp like a rag doll, and the glasses broke along with her. Before Sol could react, there was a sword at his throat and half a dozen Paeonian soldiers closing in on him._

_"Hold still, kid." one of them snarled. "This won't hurt for long."_

_"No..." Sol gasped._

_"What's the matter?" another of the men leered. "Don't you wanna join your sister in Hell?"_

_"If you stop fighting us," the first soldier added, "we'll make it quick, and..._almost _painless."_

_"N-no." Sol repeated quietly. He looked down at his clenched fists...the gun was still in his right hand. He didn't have time to think. In one quick motion, he lifted the pistol, gritted his teeth, and shook his head. "No! I won't listen!"_

_He pulled the trigger once._

_The soldier grunted and staggered. He was dead within thirty seconds. Sol whined softly, feeling his knees buckle with the knowledge that he had killed someone. He had cut a human life short with one hand. One twitch of a finger had stopped a man's heart._

_A second soldier tackled him, grabbing for his pistol, ripping at his closed hand. Sol shot again, just as the man slammed his arm against a wall, and he felt the force of the blow dislocate his shoulder. The gun fell with a clatter. The soldier fell with a shout._

_Sol turned and ran._

* * *

He was awake with his head in his hands before he even realized that he had been dreaming. His sheets and clothes were drenched with sweat. He kicked the former off and lost a few layers of the latter, so that he was sitting on the ground in just his socks, shorts, and tanktop.

No one else was around to see him cry; Yuri and the others were out training. He vaguely recalled telling them to go ahead so that he could stay behind and rest. He regretted that now. He was more tired at that moment than he had been that morning—than he had been before he went to sleep.

What had that dream meant? Was it a recollection? The memory of his first kill? Or was it just that; a nightmare, meant only as a sick joke from his subconscious, hellbent on tormenting him...?

Sol scoffed.

If his subconscious was so determined to be consumed by its own masochism, he would let it. There was no point in getting upset over something he had no control over. All that was left for him to do was make himself presentable and find the rest of the party. He stood and made his way feebly to the edge of stream. The boy crouched down, took off his bandanna, and splashed his face. He glared at his reflection bitterly.

Something moved in the bushes to Sol's right, and he froze.

His right hand instinctively rose and pulled his blindfold down, so that he could rely on his other senses in battle, and his left went to his belt, grabbed his butterfly yo-yo, and slid the slip knot onto his middle finger.

The bushes shifted again, betraying the presence of another person. Sol stood up and growled. His knees bent in an unmistakable fighting stance. His yo-yo lowered on its drawstring, suspended in a sleep inches above the forest floor. His lips moved in a silent incantation; a bluish glyph appeared under his feet.

"Now, now," a woman whispered huskily from behind Sol, snapping his concentration, "there's no need for that."

Before the half-elf could react, he was slammed painfully into a tree. The yo-yo that he had pulled for defense was suddenly coiled around his wrists, restricting his hands tightly behind his back, and his blindfold was working abruptly against him. He struggled against his binds, but to no avail. The woman laughed, pinning him down easily with one hand.

"Let me go!" Sol seethed, twisting and jerking at his wrists.

The woman giggled again. Sol felt something sharp—probably her fingernails—digging into the skin just under his collarbone. He groaned quietly, feeling his knees buckle weakly and his body go limp. He slumped down against the tree, shuddering at the jolt that ran down his spine—a sickening mix of pain and enjoyment.

"So predictable." the woman purred. She crouched down next to him, then slid a hand into the pocket on his jacket. He growled in protest, but she shut him up with a swift cut on the cheek. "We know you have it...be a good little boy and stop fighting me."

Sol managed a choked whine and a gasp in response. He couldn't fathom what the woman was looking for—his mind was too hazy for him to think clearly—but she seemed determined to find it. One hand roamed down the side of his body, checking every pocket of every layer of clothing, while the other stayed on his face, firmly cupping his chin; on occasion, she would embed her nails on that hand into his skin, just barely drawing blood, and he would mewl ridiculously in response.

"Where is it...?" he heard her murmur, half to herself.

"I—" his voice cracked harshly, and he had to start over. "I don't—hnng—know what you're t-talking about..."

The woman ignored him and ran one fingernail across his face, just under his right eye, eliciting a gasp that Sol hadn't meant to let slip. He bit his tongue quickly, although the stinging ache that blossomed where his teeth clenched didn't help his current situation any.

"Hey, Presa~!" a girl's voice called from across the clearing, and Sol hissed out a breath at the realization that there were others there. "I found something!"

The woman let go of Sol, and he exhaled in relief. He heard her stand up, but she didn't walk away.

"Good job, Alice." she hummed to the other assailant. "Here, come deal with him. We wouldn't want Zagi to slit his throat by accident, would we?"

"No, we wouldn't." the girl giggled cruelly. "Right, Zagi?"

"No..." a male voice sneered in reply. "Of course not."

Sol felt a different set of hands grip his shoulders; merciless, sadistic hands that made his arms hurt. One of them traveled up, entwining itself in his bedraggled hair, and yanked his head back roughly. Pain rain down his spine, but he couldn't flinch away. He cried out in something that sounded too lusty to be anguish at the pain. The girl growled at that, like she wanted him to be in too much pain to enjoy it, but like hell, that wasn't happening. Something—a switch or a whip, maybe—lashed across his face, and he choked on a whimper. His blindfold fell off, and his cheek swelled where he was struck.

He could see the blurred shapes of his attackers, now. The one standing in front of him was a girl with pale skin and pale hair, dressed in a frilly red and white dress. Behind her, a woman with ears and a tail and a man with spiky yellow bangs and red and black hair were searching through Sol's stuff. The man was holding his satchel, grinning a demented grin, and the woman was holding something between a thumb and a forefinger.

Luma's choker.

"Put that down!" Sol ordered, writhing against his restraints. The white-haired girl stood up and kicked him in the ribs. He doubled over in pain, clutching his side and growling.

"Be quiet." she told her, her voice dripping with a sick sweetness. "We don't take our orders from you."

"Then maybe you'll listen to _us_." Luma's voice called from the treetops. She and Yuri were on the ground in a flash, followed by the others. Sol sighed and leaned back against the tree. This certainly wasn't a situation he wanted to explain to his teammates.

Welp.


	6. Let's Split Up—To Fight or Not to Fight?

The white-haired girl's weapon fell to the ground with a soft thud. Thinking quickly, Sol inched the toy rapier closer to himself with one foot. He propped it against the tree next to him, then slid his arms over it and leaned forward. One wrist cracked painfully, but Sol was able to ignore it. The knot in his yo-yo came undone, and, not bothering to free his arms completely, he jumped to his feet just as the white-haired girl made to slap Luma. He stuck out one foot in a halfhearted, spinning kick that nicked the girl's shins and sent her sprawling.

Sol snickered quietly, then tore his wrists free and caught his yo-yo. The string felt precariously loose on the axel of the toy, but it wasn't something he couldn't fix later. He eased the slip knot onto his finger, gave his wrist a few experimental flicks, then let the rounded disks fall into a sleep.

"Sol!" Luma greeted, and Sol saw her grinning cruelly at the girl's fall. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Sol answered calmly. He doubted that he _looked _fine. His face still burned wonderfully where he had been switched by the white-haired girl's weapon. He could still feel the ghastly stinging of fingernails on his neck, and he was sure that there was still blood running down his chest and shoulders. Even his wrists smarted from being tied behind his back for so long.

"But you're hurt!" Luma argued. Sol had to struggle not to roll his eyes.

"I'm fine." he insisted shortly. He yanked his wrist up and caught his yo-yo, let it fall, then pulled it up again.

"Are you ready to fight, then?" the girl asked doubtfully.

Sol opened his mouth to reply, then paused. He doubted he could honestly answer the question with a positive. His head was still abuzz with half-felt pain, for one, and he was still tired from fighting it. He didn't have to reply, though; the sadist girl made sure of that.

"Don't bother!" she snapped. Sol turned calmly to face her through narrowed eyes.

Blood trickled down her face from a gash over her right eye. Her dress was stained brown with mud, green with grass, and grey with dust. Sol smirked with the knowledge that he had been the one to trip her. Served the bitch right.

The woman with the cat ears mimicked Sol's smirk, then grabbed her companions by the wrists and took a step back.

"We aren't fighting anymore." she purred. "We have what we came here for. Zagi! Alice! Let's go."

Sol shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. At this point, he just wanted to curl up and disappear. No harm done if they escape, he figured.

"What makes you think we're willing to let you walk away unharmed?" Luma called after them. She took a step forward, but Jade reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Let them go." he whispered.

The woman glanced back at Luma, then smiled. She disappeared into the trees first, followed by the girl. The man with the odd hair paused on his way after them. He turned around, and looked Sol straight in the eye. He grinned, cracked his knuckles, and laughed, "Next time we meet...I will _kill _you."

"Like hell you will..." Sol murmured. Before the boy had time to walk away, Luma was hugging him tightly and sobbing into his shoulder.

"You're hurt, Sol!" she wept, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "We're gonna have someone look at that welt as soon as we get back to Panamko...—"

_Panamko_...Sol thought with a grimace. Surely even Luma must have realized that he couldn't go back? The military was on his tail. His mission had been only to find Luma and bring her back home. She was right there, standing in front of him. Mission accomplished; that was the best he could do.

"I'm not going back with you." he interrupted.

"Wh-what?" Luma sounded shocked. She frowned and looked at Sol, like she didn't quite believe—or understand—what she was being told. "I...didn't quite catch—"

"I'm not going with you to Panamko." Sol repeated loudly. "You're on your own."

"Why!?" Luma demanded, clearly hurt. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing, Lu." Sol explained with a wistful smile. "You followed your heart and chose your allegiance. But I can't go down the same path as you. The military is after Yuri and I, and therefore so are you. I can't follow you to my own doom."

"Then what are you gonna do?" Luma challenged. "Are you going back home?"

"To do what?" Sol countered coolly. "Tell your father that I couldn't bring his daughter back because she ran away to join the military of a country that wants our land under their rule? I don't think so."

Luma took a step back and shook her head in disbelief.

"Then what?" she asked.

Sol took a deep breath, then responded, "I'm traveling with Yuri. He helped me find you, and I want to return the favor."

"You'll just slow him down, Sol." Luma shot back venomously.

"Slow him down?" Sol whispered. He let his bangs bangs drop over his eyes darkly, and his mouth twitched in an angry smirk. His voice rose suddenly to a screech. "How will I slow him down, Luma? Fucking _how_!?"

"You can't fight, Sol." Luma retaliated matter-of-factly.

"Oh, this is rich. Fucking brilliant. I can't fight? This coming from the girl who got her ass handed to her by a dragon?"

"And _you _just got beaten half to death by a girl with a toy sword. If I hadn't saved you then—"

"I didn't _ask _for your help." Sol snapped. "I could have saved myself I wanted to."

"Then why didn't you!?" Luma screamed. "No excuse there, unless you _wanted _that girl to hurt you."

Sol felt his face heat up at the painful truthfulness of Luma's last statement.

"That's...irrelevant." he faltered. "I can still fight!"

"No you can't, Sol." Luma argued quietly. Without warning, she took a step forward. Then, she put her hands on Sol's chest, shoved him backwards harshly, and hissed, "You're _blind_, Sol."

The words struck Sol in the heart, like a dagger. He gritted his teeth. His throat constricted with unshed tears, and he looked at the ground. He bit the tip of his tongue and loosened his jaw, trying to distract himself from the watering of his eyes, but it didn't work.

"S-screw you, Luma!" he choked out as the first droplets ran down his face. The others were watching on quietly, and while Sol didn't give two shits about Luma's companions, the thought of Yuri's annoyance at the half-elf's actions only further frustrated him. He whirled around, humiliated, and ran. He didn't let himself stop until long after Luma's voice had faded into the air behind him, and he was alone, struggling for air and staggering on nothing.

He didn't bother leaning against a rock or a tree when he finally stopped running. He crouched down, bracing himself against the ground with one balled fist, and tried to catch his breath. After a minute, his legs gave out, and he fell back on his tailbone. He gasped loudly and clutched his back halfheartedly at the pain, then paused. Who was he kidding? The boy dug his nails into his palms and sighed, half in resentment and half contently.

"Sol."

Dammit.

Sol glared at Yuri's shoes through half-closed eyes, not wanting too tilt his head and look the other in the eye.

"Why are you here?" the cleric demanded, trying to sneer.

"I came to get you." Yuri replied with a lackadaisical shrug. He knelt down next to Sol, who flinched and looked away.

"Why?" Sol's voice cracked. He tried to relax his clenched jaw. "I'm just—just gonna slow you down, after all!"

Yuri thought about that, then shook his head.

"You said so yourself." he argued. "You owe me."

"But...I...b-b...can't..." Sol managed. He choked on his own words, then bit his tongue and shook his head frantically, trying to hold back a sob. A loud hiccup escaped his lips, followed by a high-pitched yelp. He let his head fall into his lap and buried his face in his hands. His palms were already damp with tears. He growled and swiped at his eyes.

"This—" he whimpered, pausing as his inhalation turned to a shuddering gasp. "This is exactly what Luma meant. What _I _mean. I'll only s-s-slow you down, Yuri."

"You really are an idiot, Sol."

"E-excuse me!?" The response had been automatic and unexpected. Sol jumped to a crouch and stared Yuri down through red, puffy eyes. The swordsman chuckled softly at Sol's reaction.

"You aren't slowing me down by showing emotion." Yuri explained calmly, standing up. "The only thing hindering our progress is your attitude, got it?"

Sol didn't answer.

"Look," Yuri sighed before walking away, "you can come with me, or you can go back to your village. It's your call. I'm leaving before sunrise tomorrow."

Sol watched him go wordlessly. He wanted to get up and follow him—to thank him. He wanted to be near another person. He stayed put, though, and didn't say anything. He sat there, with his knees tucked up to his chest, long after the sun had set and the mosquitoes had come out, sobbing quietly into his hands.


	7. Doncaster—The City of Purity?

"Sol."

"Fuck off, man..." Sol muttered in his sleep, rolling over and pulling his coat over his face.

"Sol, wake up."

"I don't freaking wanna..."

"Fine, suit yourself."

Before Sol could ask what that was supposed to mean, his jacket was torn harshly from his grasp. The cold, damp air rushed against his bare skin, heavy with mist. He sat up, scrambling to cover his lap, and cried out in protest.

"What the heck, Yuri!" he fumed. His clothes were in a crumpled heap next to him. He grabbed his jeans and quickly pulled them on, then stood up and planted his hands firmly on his girlish hips. He started to shout something else, then blushed and curled his toes around his tank top, flicked it up into his hands, and pulled it quickly over his head.

Yuri gave a nonchalant shrug.

"I warned you, didn't I?" he asked, tossing Sol his coat.

Sol offered a laconic grunt in response as he slid his bracers into place, then shoved his arms through his sleeves.

"Alright, where to?" the mage asked finally.

"Paeonia." Yuri replied gravely.

Sol swallowed.

"You've gotta be kidding me. Paeonia?" he spluttered.

"I have a feeling that friend I mentioned is there."

"A _feeling_? You're dragging me across the border based on a _premonition_?"_  
_

Yuri ignored him.

"There's a town to the northeast called Doncaster. That's where we're headed."

"Dammit." Sol whined. "I may as well start writing my will now. Wait, that's a good idea. Give me a minute—and don't expect me to leave you anything but my debt."

"Stop complaining." Yuri huffed with a dismissive shake of his head. "If we start off now, we should be there by noon."

"I wish we could just quick jump..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

—Skit No. 004: Masochist—

"Uh, Sol?"

"What?" Sol demanded.

"Forget it."

"Hey, no! What are you looking at? You were about to say something."

"I just didn't realize you were a masochist, is all." Yuri smirked.

"Huh...? W-wait! How much did you guys see!?"

"Enough."

"What's that supposed to mean!? H-hey, I wasn't finished talking! Yuri~!"

—End Skit—

* * *

"So this is...Doncaster?"

The town was huge and lined with expensive-looking buildings. The streets were all paved with silvery bricks and branched out in three directions, wrapping around the entire town and, Sol guessed, joining at the other end. White lampposts hung on every corner, dormant until nightfall. To top it off, a large, sparkling fountain crouched in the center of town, just offset in the plaza.

And there were _people _there, too, but it wasn't like other towns Sol had been to before, where elves and Lycanth and Celestians alike roamed the streets. Everyone looked the same; light-skinned, tall, _humans_. It was enough to make Sol shrink back for a moment and pull his coat tighter around himself.

"_The City of Purity _itself." Yuri hummed in confirmation, then nudged Sol in the chest. "I'm going to go gather information. Wait for me here. We don't want to attract too much attention."

"Huh? O-oh..." Sol agreed absently. "Sure, okay."

Yuri looked at Sol oddly, then shrugged.

"I'll be back in a few hours, tops." he called before disappearing down one of the silvery roads.

"Yeah..." Sol sighed to himself, leaning against the fountain and staring begrudgingly into the water at his own bedraggled reflection. It glared back at him, eyes bloodshot and have shaded by ivory bangs, though they were more taupe than white, caked with sweat and dirt.

_How long since I've taken a shower? _he thought to himself. _It's only been...four days? It felt like longer. I guess that means I have three days left to_—

"Hey, kid!"

Sol turned on his heel and came face-to-face with a boy who looked about fourteen or fifteen. His hair, long and girlish and jet-black, was pulled up in a ponytail on one side of his head. His shorts and tunic were both the same shade of purple and decorated with blue crescent moons and yellow stars. His skin was pale—all but white, and only slightly lighter than Sol's own. He stood with his hands on his hips, eyeing the half-elf before him as though thinking something over.

"Me?" Sol asked, annoyed.

"No, the guy next to you." the kid snorted. "Yeah, you. Are you strong?"

"Strong?" Sol echoed. "I...who cares?"

"I care." the boy replied calmly, but he was fighting back the biggest cat-ate-the-canary grin Sol had ever seen on anyone but Luma. "I want to know. I _need _to know. I can't stand it when there's something I don't know, you know?"

"No, I _don't _know." Sol huffed indignantly. "And you'll never know, now, will you?"

The boy laughed, and Sol's heart sank; the cat didn't eat the canary. The canary killed the cat.

He turned around and started to say something else, but Sol was quicker. He leaped at the other with the intent of knocking him over, but he must have been expecting that. He cartwheeled out of the way and landed on the edge of the fountain, bowing as he did, and Sol was left sprawling on the ground, rubbing his head and whining in pain and indignation.

He stood up again, turning to face the boy, but he had already jumped off the fountain and landed behind Sol. The mage spun around and grabbed the kid by the collar of his shirt, his fist bawled and ready to punch his nose in. Still, the holier-than-thou smirk on his pale face didn't fade. Sol let him go, watching as he backstepped calmly, then leaned forward to look him in the eye.

"I guess not." he sighed, sounding disappointed. "That's too bad. But then, you didn't exactly _look _strong to begin with."

"Shut up." Sol hissed.

"Hm?"

"I said shut up!"

He hadn't even realized that he'd struck out at the other until he looked up to see a firm, gloved hand on his wrist, and another on the boy's.

The man between the two was taller than both boys, dwarfing them easily. He had long, amber hair pulled out of his face in a ponytail. His outfit was an eccentric one; a teal shirt and gloves, a celadon cavalry skirt, and jeans. There was a huge, broad sword strapped to his back; the hilt was just above his right shoulder, and the tip of the blade fell below his waist, almost at his left knee.

The dark-haired boy fell to his knees, as did the few bystanders still gathered in the area. Following their lead, Sol slid down to an awkward bow as best as he could with his arm restrained.

The man sighed.

"What's going on here, boys?" he asked.

"He started it!" Sol blurted. He struggled, pulling at his arm, but the swordsman didn't let go.

"I apologize, Lord Tilkis." the other boy murmured sheepishly, though he cut Sol a grin that told him it wasn't a sincere apology.

"Just be glad one of my brothers didn't catch you fighting like that." the man named Tilkis murmured. "What are you doing here anyway, _Jay the Unseen_? I had heard that you were in Natick."

The boy—Jay—grinned and stood up, though he kept his head lowered respectfully.

"I came back early. I have what I went there for."

Tilkis raised an eyebrow.

"Is that right?" he inquired.

Sol cleared his throat and tugged at his wrist.

"Look, this is all very interesting, but I need to catch up with someone, so if you'd kindly let go of me, then—"

"Hey, not so fast." Tilkis objected. Sol felt his arm being pulled on, and he stood hastily. He had to crane his neck to look Tilkis in the eye, but then, he was already used to that.

The brunette paused, then shook head.

"You aren't from Paeonia, are you?" he asked, and Sol's tainted blood ran cold.

The noble must have taken Sol's guilty silence as a yes, because he looked at the half-elf with a look that laughed, _I know that you know that I know what he knows that you know_.

"I didn't think so. Lucky for you, my little brother isn't here, so you won't die...today."

"What do you intend to do, then?" Sol managed breathlessly, wriggling his arm free and wiping it off like he was afraid it was dirty—not that the man's hands, concealed by a pair of teal gloves, could have had much dirt on them to begin with.

Tilkis shrugged.

"Arrest you, I suppose. That _is _the standard penalty for fighting, after all."

Sol growled in fear and shook his head.

"Y-you can't." he whispered.

"Why can't I?" Tilkis asked. "Lawfully, I can do whatever I want—"

"No." Sol repeated. "You can't do that."

"There's no need to cut me off." the noble huffed. "If you'd let me finish, I was _going _to say that just because I _can _doesn't mean I _should_, nor does it mean that I intend to."

"Hunh?" Sol mewled in confusion. He broke eye contact with the other, having looked up long enough to make his neck ache, and kicked his own left foot with his right.

"I have business with Jay over here," Tilkis explained slowly, "and I can't have you wandering around and starting fights. Besides, this town is too big for a blind foreigner to navigate on his own—"

"How did you know I'm—"

"—therefore, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask that you wait at the castle until I myself can show you around."

There was a silence that drowned out the sounds of shouting and laughing in the background, coming from the Doncaster streets behind them. Jay was still smirking, and Tilkis had what Sol figured was a small smile on his face.

"You can't—er, I mean, _I _can't. I'm...waiting for someone. Purple hair, about your height...I can't leave now."

"You can't disobey the _prince _of Paeonia, either." Jay shot back quietly.

"Prince?" Sol swallowed, his fear renewed.

"Jay, _please_." Tilkis rebuked with a shake of his head. He then turned to face Sol again and added, "I'm third in line and least favorite of the king, so I'm not very important. Now, I'll send a few guards out to flag down your friend. Until then, as Prince Tilkis Barone of Paenia, I must insist that you return to the castle—you have no choice, by the way."

_So much for unimportant, Tilkis..._


	8. New Leads—Enter: Tilkis, Jay, and Guy!

The castle was small for a building that housed royalty, but it was larger than any house Sol could remember living in.

A staircase in the center of the room led to a set of double doors and four smaller doors. Sol guessed that the large doors led to a throne room or the sort, but how he knew, he wasn't sure. Several hallways branched off of the main room, and a set of doors identical to the ones on the second floor sat just to the right of the staircase.

Tilkis led Jay to the smallest of the doors upstairs and followed him inside before shutting the door behind them, leaving Sol to stare in awe at the fuzzy whiteness that must have been an amazing castle. After a while, when the light glimmering from the marble pillars and walls became too much, he pulled his headband over his eyes and leaned back against the wall with a sigh.

_What does that Tilkis man want with me, anyway_? He thought idly, reaching up to twirl a lock of his white, uneven ponytail. _He obviously wants more than to show me around this creepy town. He obviously knows something that I don't...but what? I don't trust him. I need to find Yuri before—_

The sound of a door opening pulled Sol from his thoughts and back to the real world. He opened his mouth to call out to Tilkis, then closed it again. There were two sets of footsteps echoing through the great room, to be sure, but they weren't Jay and Tilkis'; one set seemed swift and concise enough to be the prince's, and the other was all but a perfect match, but the first set moved too slowly and carefully to belong to the reckless swordsman, and neither one matched the graceful but loud trot of Jay's sneakers on the ground.

The albino lifted his blindfold carefully to squint across the room. There were two men—probably servants or butlers or the like—standing by the stairs; the first was an old man with overgrown, greying hair in a ponytail and blackish-purple robes. The other looked just older than Tilkis, who Sol figured was no older than himself, and had messy blonde hair and blue eyes. He wore an orange vest and black jeans, as well as a crooked green belt and a cat collar of a similar color. Both were staring back at him with either confusion or curiosity—from where Sol stood, though, he couldn't tell which._  
_

"Ah, um," he stammered out awkwardly, suddenly feeling beads of sweat roll down his neck and his cheeks heating up shyly. He gave the collar of his jacket a nervous tug, then undid the top button of the garment, swallowed, and tried to keep his mouth from drying out.

"Does Tilkis know you're here?" the blonde asked, and Sol was sure he heard a smirk behind the other's words. The man had a smooth sounding voice, like Yuri's, only deeper, and for a second Sol was almost jealous that none of his acquaintances shared his effeminate rasp.

_Not even Tilkis, or even Jay, and they're younger than me..._

"Does he know you're here?" the man repeated, snapping Sol out of his fit of rage.

"Ah, um..." Sol managed again, mentally hitting himself. "He...er...he knows. H-he told me to wait here, so..."

"The prince did?" the blonde asked, sounding surprised. He exchanged a glance with the other servant, who shrugged. A silence passed between the two, until Sol practically saw lightbulbs over both of their heads.

"Sol, is it?" the older of the two asked.

_Even _his _voice is better than mine, and he's _old.

"U-um...yeah..."

"There was a young man looking for you." he continued, ignoring the boy's uncertainty. "Yuri Lowell, I believe it was."

"Yuri was here?" Sol asked, forgetting his own anxiety. "He was looking for me?"

"Yeah." the blonde replied in a laid-back tone, and for the first time, Sol noticed the swords at the two men's belts. He pawed absently at his own weapons, shivering at the coldness of the metal under his fingertips.

"Where is he now, then? Please!"

"Right here."

Sol looked up, and his eyes narrowed in annoyance and half-masked surprise. Tilkis had returned from his room, followed by Jay, and lastly, Yuri. The younger of the three had his arms folded across his chest and was biting the inside of his cheek. Tilkis had the same uncaring visage as before he had disappeared, and Yuri appeared bothered by something.

"Tilkis? Yuri? Jay?" Sol wasn't sure which name he was supposed to say first. The two sword-wielding servants lowered their heads at Tilkis, who waved a hand dismissively at the respectful gesture.

"Change of plans." The noble said simply to Sol.

"Huh?"

"Tilkis here has some information on where that friend of mine might be." Yuri explained, shooting Tilkis a look.

"Jay was the one who found the lead." Tilkis corrected, but Yuri seemed to ignore him.

"These two are accompanying us until we reach the next town." he continued on. He paused to take a breath and brush a strand of rebellious hair from his eyes, but Sol didn't let him finish.

Anger burned in the pit of his stomach like acid at the commanding tone of Yuri's words. He curled his fists and instinctively reached into his pocket to grab the slip knot of his yo-yo.

"Says who?" he exploded, his voice echoing loudly off the walls. "Why do you get to make all the decisions? I should have a say in things, too, Yuri! You aren't the leader. You think that just because you're a huma—ah, ah, older than me, you get to decide?"

Yuri blinked calmly, but didn't speak. His eyes said enough.

"Never mind! Forget I said anything."

"Well then," Tilkis sighed, "now that that's sorted out—"

"Wait, you're really going, Lord Tilkis?" the blonde cut in. The old man by his side threw him a warning glance, but didn't say anything beyond that.

"Hm? Oh, Guy." Tilkis hummed, looking the servant in the eye.

_That's strange...why would a prince act so casual around a servant_?_ And why would he know him by name_?_ Doesn't he have more important things to do than meddle with commoners_?

"Bring one of us with you." the servant pleaded, and Sol looked up curiously.

"Fine by me. You'll come, right?"

A hush fell over the group.

_Did he just...did he seriously do that_?

"M-me?" Guy sounded equally as surprised. "Why not Forest? He never leaves your side; shouldn't he go?"

"You know full well why I can't ask him to accompany me. Now return to your quarters and pack; we're leaving for Natick."

_Smooth, Tilkis. Real smooth._

* * *

The sun was setting by the time the group set out.

"I still don't see why we couldn't have rested and left in the morning." Jay grumbled from behind Sol, where he was trailing back from the rest of the party and dragging his feet in the dirt.

"It's cooler, we won't get caught, and I can actually see." Sol reminded him laconically.

"It's not like Tilkis hasn't left the castle before..." the boy complained, ignoring the first and third points.

"Yeah, don't you have a country to rule, Prince?" Sol inquired, tilting his head to one side.

"Like I said," Tilkis murmured with something that sounded to be self-loathing, "I'm not important. My older brothers are in charge of Paeonia. I'm just the ambassador. Completely disposable, if Meguro ever decides to kill me."

_Don't talk like that. Of course you're important._ Someone whispered in Sol's head. When he repeated the words aloud, Tilkis snorted.

"Sure, of course. I'll cut it out." he promised, but he didn't sound convinced.

—Skit No. 005: Awkward First Impressions—

"S-so..." Sol started. "Er, Guy, right? And Jay the Unseen?"

"That's us." Jay deadpanned.

"Oh...er, I'm Sol."

"I already know that." Jay interrupted. "You're Sol El Idnus, and you were raised in the Neutral Crescent with a member of the Panamko Military."

"How did—"

"Jay's an information dealer." Guy explained. "He makes it a point to know _everything_. That's why Lord Tilkis trusts him to gather leads on criminals and rival nations."

"He's a cunning kid." Tilkis added fondly with what Sol guessed was pride or praise.

"Right..." Sol chuckled nervously.

Jay smirked.

—End Skit—


End file.
